Uninvited
by Lunairetic
Summary: set three years after EW. Trowa returns to find things have changed...and not in his favor... 3+4


Uninvited- 

By Lunairetic

It takes place three years after Endless Waltz. They're all in their early 20's. Quatre is a little OOC. At least I didn't turn him into a hentai or anything like SOME people do.....(hentai fanfic writers....How could you do that to poor Q-chan?!)

Disclaimer- WHAAAA!!!! I want Zechs! Or Trowa.....but seeing as how I don't own either of them and the fact that they don't exist it doesn't really matter anyway......damn anime artists always toying with me....-_-'

Uninvited

                                                Trowa Barton squinted as he looked up at the sky, wiping a bare arm over his sweaty brow. The wind had died, allowing the sun to shine mercilessly down on the grounds. Luckily, it had begun to set and the air was cooling. Behind him, Katherine was carrying another bale of food to the elephants. The lions, finished with their meal, were settling down for the night.

                Time to get ready for bed, Trowa thought, stretching lightly. What a boring day.

                It had been three years since the war ended. Three years since he'd left the other Gundam pilots to rejoin the circus. He owed that much to Katherine. Things were simpler now, you perform, get paid, feed the animals, get paid, and go on to the next colony. No battles with mobile dolls, no colonies to destroy or enemies to defeat, no gundam pilots.... How simple....too simple. 

                Too boring. 

                He sighed and looked down, removing the work gloves from his hands. He turned and walked up to the cage beside him, reaching through the bars and patting the nearest large cat on the head.

                "Goodnight friend..."

                He heard Katherine gasp and turned, jumping a little in surprise. The young man behind him stood hardly two inches shorter than him with a wide chested build and dark hair. Cobalt blue eyes tore mercilessly into surprised green as Trowa straightened.

                "Hello Heero...."

                "Trowa..." Heero's monotone voice replied, gaze unwavering.

                Trowa sighed. 

*

                                Heero eyed the other young man over the steaming cup of coffee Katherine had handed to him only seconds before. The trailer was small, barely five feet wide and messy. Old circus flyers lined the walls, a stained, worn out brown rug covered the floor, barely, the metal floor showing in some parts. Heero sat in a coffee spotted armchair beside one wall, Trowa took the disheveled sofa across from him. The two studied one another over that small space between them, each noting the changes in the other.

                "You want me to go back...." Trowa tilted his head. "Why?"

                "It's about time you did." Heero replied. "None of the others know I'm here. I'm the only one who knows the circus is on earth now."

                "They'll figure it out." Trowa told him. "They're smart." 

                "Yes.." Heero nodded. "Yes, they are. Look, I'm not asking you to come permanently, just come and visit. To tell you the truth, they're starting to annoy me and I don't know how much blind inquiry I can handle." He smirked. "Besides, Duo's been rubbing off on Quatre a little.  Wufei doesn't think we need two braided baka's in the house...his exact words."

                Trowa's face softened as he thought of his old friends. His thoughts drifted to one in particular and he swallowed uncomfortably. "Fine. I'll go. But it won't be for long. A week or two at the most."

                "Fine." Heero replied.

*   *   *

two days later-

                                "I'm soooooooo bored....." Duo sang, swinging around in the swivel chair beside Quatre's desk, his braid swung around behind him. On the bed, another braid, blond, lay curled over the side of the mattress as it's owner lay sprawled on his stomach, face buried in his arms. "Hey, Q-chan? When you think Heero's gonna be back?"

                "He never said. I have no clue." came the deep noted reply. The head came up and rested on the arms, aqua blue eyes blinking thoughtfully. "Missing your koi?"

                "Hell yeah." Duo laughed, turning the chair around to face the bed. "All those cold, lonely nights are getting to me....." he arched his eyebrow's suggestively. "Hey Winner, ya busy tonight?"

                "For the last time in three days, Duo, there's no way." The blonde replied, stretching catlike before rolling onto his back.

                "Prude." Duo told him, sticking his tongue out.

                Quatre smirked. "Slut." 

                The chestnut haired one shrugged, throwing his long, well formed legs onto the foot of the bed, breathing deeply. "Heero never complained."

                "Hn." Quatre replied. 

                "Heero's home." Wufei's voice called from downstairs. Both braided heads perked up and headed for the door. Duo got to the stairs first, hopping down every third one and nearly sliding into the kitchen. He turned into the livingroom and pounced as soon as the door opened. The figure fell back, strong arms gripping the shoulders of the pilot of shinigami trying to pry him off.

                "Missed you, Koi." Duo purred, planting and overly wet kiss on the lips of the perfect soldier and rubbed up against the other pilot suggestively.

                "Duo....get off me..." Heero sighed, annoyed.

                Duo gave a maniacal giggle but did as he was told and helped the short haired young man up, noticing the suit case that had fallen out of Heero's hands. "Hey, that's not yours."

                Trowa watched as Heero brushed himself off, in utter astonishment and amusement from the scene he had just watched. Duo certainly hadn't changed much in the past few years. Hair, longer, yes. But the rest of him was the same....only a little older, well, at least physically. 

                "It's not his. It's mine." Trowa called as Heero moved out of the way.

                "TROWA!!!!" Duo practically screamed, rushing up to the other young man and hugging him so tightly he picked the poor guy up off the ground a few inches. Trowa coughed at the sudden lack of oxygen. Once Duo let go he smacked the taller pilot over the head emphatically. "Where the hell have YOU been?!"

                "Around." Trowa offered, rubbing his new bump. Nope, the braided baka hadn't changed a bit.

                Wufei stood on the doorway, leaning against the frame. "Welcome back."

                Trowa nodded in return, noticing the changes in the Chinese man. For one, his hair was short, almost a bull cut, another, he was considerable taller and filled out. Trowa smirked a little, remembering how Wufei had lost the ponytail to begin with. It was only a few weeks before he'd left, Duo came home drunk and frisky one night and had walked in on the sleeping chinese pilot, taking a pair of scissors to the tail. It had taken several threats from Heero to keep the justice freak from killing Maxwell. But Heero had punished Duo in his own way, so he'd said. Trowa didn't even ask. From the look of the chinese pilot now he must have found it more comfortable to keep it short.

                "Are you going to let him go inside?" Heero asked, raising an eyebrow at Duo, who stood in front of Trowa, blocking his path to the door.

                Duo moved aside, allowing Trowa to pass and followed him up until he passed Heero. Grinning as he watched his koi bend to pick up the fallen suitcase he slapped the darker haired young man on the ass and strutted ahead as if nothing had happened.

                Heero tossed a dirty look at the back of the retreating Duo and grumbled.

                "Duo, you baka.." Quatre called as he descended the stairs, holding his forehead. "You slammed the door on my...." he blinked and straightened, watching the doorway. "....head...." 

                Trowa stopped and swallowed. 

                Duo suddenly froze behind Trowa, remembering. 

                Oh shit, he thought. Heero, what were you thinking?

                A surge of old, forgotten feelings stirred on the blonde's chest as he descended the stairs, forgetting about his head completely, old, buried, emotional wounds beginning to reopen.

                Heero looked at Trowa then Quatre, seeing the look in the blonde's eyes..... something resembling deep hurt. He was trying to hide it but it wasn't working well. Then, slowly, it started to morph into anger. He turned and walked back up the stairs. After a few seconds, a door slammed. 

                Duo bit his lip and nudged Heero, who nodded. "Come on, I'll show you to your room." Heero said, leading Trowa away from the stairwell and into the next room to go up the other stairwell.

                Wufei sighed and shook his head. Heero, I hope you know what your doing. 

*  *  *

                                Trowa stood next to the bed, removing his belongings from the suitcase and laying them out to put them away in the empty dresser. As he tossed a pair of jeans on the bed a small piece of folded paper fell onto the comforter. He looked at it for a second without unfolding it or picking it up, knowing what it was and sighing, tossed a shirt on top of it.

                He sighed and looked briefly up at the ceiling.

                He figured that after three years things would have blown over between them, obviously they hadn't. Then again, he wasn't surprised.

                There was a knock on the door and he turned. "Come in."

                The door opened and Duo stuck his head in, tossing a towel and wash cloth on the bed. "Here ya go. The shower's right through that door. Everything else you need is already in there."

                "Thanks Duo...." he closed his eyes. 

                "See you at dinner?" 

                Trowa nodded and the door shut.

                He sat down on the bed and rubbed the back of his neck.

                This was definitely going to be an interesting visit.

*

                                When Heero walked into the training room Quatre was mercilessly pummeling the life out of one of the punching bags that hung from the ceiling. Wufei had been teaching him some martial arts for the past few years so the hits were effective, causing the heavy bag to swing back and forth with the force of them.

                "Quatre." Heero started. "I know you're angry..."

                "What's he doing here Heero?" Quatre asked, not looking at the one he spoke to, continuing to violently attach the object in front of him. "Why didn't you tell me instead of just...." he gave a low growl that was more a sob than anything else and hit the bag again, almost sending it off it's hook. He paused, chest heaving. "I know it's my problem, but you still should have told me..."                "I know." Heero told him. "And I'm sorry, but you wouldn't have stayed if I told you. I know he hurt you, but you have to face it or it's not going to stop and you'll keep hating him forever."

                Quatre closed his eyes and leaned against the bag, sighing. "I know...It's not his fault he didn't....." he stopped, taking in a deep breath, telling himself to gain some control, and hit the bag again. "I don't know if I can face him without getting angry.                "You're not the only one." Heero muttered to himself, studying the one before him who was more like a brother than anything else.

                Quatre sighed. "Look, I'll try it tonight and see what happens...that's all I can promise you."

                "That's all I'm asking." Heero told him. 

                "Fine." Quatre told him. 

*

                                Dinner was unnervingly quiet that evening for Duo. Usually he and Quatre would go on about the day's events, Heero would tell them to shut up, Wufei would add his two-cents in and that was basically dinner. But tonight everything was so quiet. So unnaturally quiet.

                Trowa felt Wufei's eyes on him before he saw them and looked up. Wufei's gaze didn't waver as it studied him. Behind everything else there was a heavy coat of blame aimed at Trowa until Wufei averted his eyes to look at Quatre. The blonde was staring at his food, pushing it around the plate with his fork. He knew everyone was looking at him, waiting for him to do something, and couldn't take it anymore.

                He looked up and threw his fork down. "Excuse me." Then he stood and walked out of the room.

                Duo watched the door for a few seconds before standing and following. Next, Wufei excused himself and headed toward the training room to let out some access negative energy that was building up.

                That left Trowa alone with Heero.

                Neither one of them spoke, Heero looking at Trowa, Trowa looking at his plate.

                "Go ahead, Heero." Trowa sighed, pushing his plate away. "Tell me what an asshole I am. Everyone else seems to want to."

                Heero took a casual sip of his water, eyes never leaving Trowa. "The others are just disappointed in you." He blinked. "It's not your fault you don't care about anyone."

                "Now hold on, that's not fair...." Trowa started.

                "No, what's not fair is the way you treated Quatre. You broke him down." Heero sighed. "You're a bastard, Trowa Barton. But he saw something in you, something no one else did." He stood and pushed his chair in. "You're really good at pushing people away. Especially when you're afraid."

                Trowa looked up at him wide-eyed. "What?"

                "I'm not blind Trowa. I wasn't then and I'm not now." Heero stretched. "Quatre's not like the rest of us. He's better. And, fuck, Trowa, you don't deserve him."

                "Why am I here, Heero? So you and the others can take shots at me?" Trowa asked.

                "No," Heero replied honestly. "you're here because Quatre needs to get over this. He's changed a lot since you last saw him....He lost something when you emotionally beat the shit out of him, and he's going to get that back even if it kills you. Because I won't just sit around and watch him get worse. And I sure as hell won't let him turn into you."

                With that Heero got up and left the room, leaving Trowa alone with five, cold, plates of food.

*

                                When Heero got back to the room, Duo was waiting for him, pacing back and forth in front of the window. "I sure as hell hope you know what you're doing..."

                Heero watched him for a minute. "What's wrong."

                "Quatre looked like he was gonna throw up when we got upstairs. God, Heero, I think we're making it worse."

                "It will get worse before it gets better." Heero admitted. "But it has to get better." He sat down on the foot of the bed and reached out a hand. "Now come here."

                Duo sighed and walked over, standing in front of his koi and planting a kiss on his lips.

                "I missed you." Heero told him, nuzzling Duo's hand as it brushed against his cheek.

                "I missed you too." Duo sighed. " Wanna know how much?"

                Heero smirked and lay back, pulling the latter with him. "Show me."

*

                                Quatre was looking blankly at the text in the book before him when there was a knock on his bedroom door. He absentmindedly turned his chair toward it a little without looking up, ignoring the time. It was probably just one of the others coming in to check on him. "Come in."

                There was a moment of hesitation before the door opened, a second later it closed.

                "I'm fine." Quatre called to the newcomer, still looking at the screen. "Really, I'm not a kid anymore, I don't need a babysitter."          

                "I can see that." an almost sickeningly familiar voice answered. 

                Quatre nearly jumped up out of his seat and turned to face Trowa. He folded his arms over his chest, putting up Wufei style defense. "What do you want?"

                "I came to talk." Trowa replied.

                "Yeah, I remember what happened last time we talked." Quatre told him. "Get out."

                "Quatre, don't..." Trowa tried.

                "Or what? You'll hit me again? Well I have news for you, I hit back now. And I assure you, it WILL hurt." the blond threatened. Trowa didn't budge so Quatre stepped forward, fist clenching. "Get out, you fucking bastard! I won't ask you again!"

                Trowa looked surprised but moved toward the door. "Fine." The fiery look in the blond's eyes would have scared even Heero if given the chance.

                Quatre sat back down in the chair and rubbed his forehead. Trowa would be gone in a few days.

                He just had to last for a few more days, then everything would be okay again.

*

                                Trowa paced back and forth like a caged tiger in front of the bed. Heero had been right. Quatre had changed.

                He flopped down uncerimoniously and threw his hands over his face. He stayed like that for a few moments before he sat up, staring at the dresser. He stood and walked to it, stopping in front of it and opening the top drawer. He sifted through the clothing until he found at pair of dark blue jeans and pulled them out. He shook them until they unfolded and reached into the pocket, pulling out the folded piece of paper from within. He tossed the jeans onto the bed and sat down again. He held the paper in between his middle and pointer fingers and ju[1]st looked at it. He swallowed and sighed then tossed it onto the bed on top of the bundled jeans and left the room.

//flashback//

                                Trowa looked up from the computer screen as someone knocked at the door and leaned back in his chair. "Come in."

                The door opened and Quatre peeked his small, blond head in. "Am I interrupting?"

                Trowa shook his head and looked at the blond. "What is it?"

                Quatre looked down, big blue eyes aimed at the floor. "Uhmm...Can I talk to you for a minute?"

                "Fine." 

                Quatre came in and shut the door behind him, leaning against it, eyes still aimed at the floor.

                Trowa looked back to the computer screen. "What's the problem."

                "Nothing really." Quatre replied, he gestured with his head to the bandage around the other pilot's arm. "How's the gunshot wound healing?"

                "Slowly."

                Quatre gave a small nod and was silent for a few seconds.

                Trowa looked at him briefly. "Is that all?"

                Quatre seemed to freeze and shifted on his feet with almost child-like embarassment. 

                Trowa tilted his head, face unreadable. "Quatre?"

                "I...." Quatre started, trying to keep his body from shaking in utter fright. It would be best just to get it done and over with. "I think I love you..." His eyes didn't leave the floor, his hands were clenched so tightly it was painful.

                It was a f[1]"ew moments before there was sound in the room. Trowa's chair creaked as he stood from it and walked toward the blond boy. Then there was a sharp CRACK as the back of his hand connected with the latter's jaw.

                Quatre was thrown back a few feet before he regained his footing. Trowa's hand clenched under the blond's chin, pulling it upward so that angry green eyes met startled blue ones.

                "Love?" Trowa asked, his voice even. "Love is for the weak. It's just an illusion someone dreamed up so that there would be something for the WEAK to live for. Don't waste what's left of your pathetic little life on it." He released Quatre and walked out of the room.

                Th[1]ýe blonde collapsed onto his knees, eyes wide, blood dripping from his lip. Something in his chest grew cold and died. He didn't cry.      

                He couldn't.

*

                                Quatre sat up in bed, long blonde hair cascading around him. It was the same dream, the same memory that had haunted him for the past three years. He shook his head to clear it and sighed.

                I hate you, Trowa Barton.

*   *   *

The next morning-

                                Duo looked up from his hot cocoa and eyed Trowa as he walked in through the kitchen's sliding door. Across from him, Heero made no recognition of the taller pilot's presence as he walked past and headed toward the stairs.

                Hey, Duo thought, eyes quirking, aren't those the same clothes Trowa wore yesterday?

                Once the other pilot was gone Duo turned to his koi. "What's up with that?"

                "Hn?" Heero asked, eyes still focused on the newspaper before him as he sipped from his mug.

                "Nevermind." Duo sighed. "I think that Trowa slept outside last night."

                "I wouldn't be surprised." Heero's eyebrows arched. 

                Duo blinked. He looked at the stairs and sighed. "You know, he really doesn't want to be here."

                "Yeah." Heero nodded. "Well, he's staying until Quatre's better."

                Duo nodded sadly. "I just hope it works. I heard them last night."

                "Me too." Heero nodded. "They were louder than we were." He noted Duo's blush and almost smiled. "We'll just have to wait and see what happens."

*

                                Trowa walked into his room and shut the door quietly.  He pulled off his shirt and reached for the pair of jeans he'd left on the bed the night before....and stopped. They were on his pillow, he knew he'd left them on the foot of the bed....

                Someone had been in his room.

                And he noticed, with a tortured gasp that the folded paper he'd left on the bed was gone.

                Frantically, he searched the other side of the bed and even under the covers. His last resort, he went through the pockets of the pair of jeans he held.

                Empty.

                He growled in frustration, throwing the jeans away from him.         

                It would turn up somewhere.

                The thought was more frightening than reassuring. Attempting to calm himself, he picked up the clothing he'd chosen and walked into the bathroom.

                Maybe a shower would help.

                He undressed and turned the water on, holding his hand under the flow until it was warm enough. When if was he stepped inside and for a few seconds just stood there, letting the water was away the moisture that fell from his eyes.

                Everything was falling apart.

*

                                "Hey, Quatre!" Duo called from the livingroom to the blond who was in the kitchen. "Johnny Bravo's on!"

                From the couch Heero sighed and shok his head. "I can't believe you guys still watch cartoons."

                "There's nothing wrong with cartoons." Duo told him. "Right Q-chan?"

                "Right." Quatre quipped, sitting down beside his friend, tossing down a bowl of chips, glad that he was being distracted so he didn't have to think about Trowa. "Powerpuff Girl's are better though."

                "Oh, definately." Duo answered. "Wufei doesn't like the fact that little girls get so much power. His rants on Wonder Woman were bad enough." He grabbed a chip and popped it into his mouth. 

                Quatre smirked.

                Heero watched him, he seemed alright for the time being, but that was only because Trowa wasn't around. He still wasn't better. He clenched his teeth. There had to be some way to end this.

                "Quatre?" a voice called from the hallway.

                Quatre turned and blinked as Wufei walked in. "Yeah?"

                "I need to speak with you." The chinese pilot said and turned around, walking back down the hallway.

                Quatre handed Duo the bowl and followed.

                Duo bit the inside of his lip and looked at Heero, who's expression was unreadable.

                He had a very bad feeling about all this.   

*

                                Quatre stared wide-eyed at the chinese pilot. "You want me to WHAT?!!"

                Wufei sighed, tilting his head at the blonde. "Just talk to him."

                Quatre shook his head forcefully. "Uh uh, no way."

                "Quatre..." Wufei leaned against the wall, watching as Quatre hunched over in the chair he sat in and rubbed the back of his neck. "You have to. It's been three years. I think it's about time you at LEAST talked to him."

                Quatre didn't answer and kept his eyes on the floor, feeling Wufei's gaze burn into his head.

                "Quatre?" Wufei asked. "Do you trust me?" Quatre sighed and nodded. "Then trust me now. This is the best thing."

                The blonde swallowed. "Alright....."

                Wufei reached into his back pocket and tossed a piece of paper at him. "Here, this can be a conversation starter."

                Quatre caght it and looked questioningly at him. "What's this?"

                "Open it."

                Quatre unfolded the paper and something fell from inside and onto the floor. Before picking it up he read the larger piece.

_Trowa,_

_                                Here, I figured you'd want this seeing as how you hate having your picture taken. I didn't want you to kill Duo so I asked him for it. He actually gave it to me too. ^_^ Anyway, there aren't any copies so you can do whatever you want with it. I think it's a nice picture._

_                                                                                                                                Your friend Quatre_

                                Quatre swallowed hard and reached down, picking up the small object that had fallen. The picture was small, hardly two inches tall and two and a half inches wide. Both of the people in it he recognized. One was Trowa, eyes wide in surprise at the camera as he was being held in place by a small, short haired Quatre. The old, happy Quatre had his arm over the shoulders of the taller pilot, smiling. Both were only viewed from the shoulders up, Trowa with a slight case of photographic red-eye.

                Quatre remembered the picture and the note...but....

                "Where did you find this?" Quatre asked, looking up at Wufei.

                "It was on Trowa's bed this morning when I went to go wake him up for breakfast. He wasn't there and his bed wasn't slept in. I saw him walk in about an hour ago from outside." Wufei replied. "I don't think he realized he left it out like that."

                "I thought he was going to destroy it." Quatre muttered, noting the fact that there were old fingerprints all over it, as if at one time it had been looked at a lot then had been stored away.

                Wufei watched him as he stared at the picture, studying him. There was a flicker of something on the blonde's face, but it was gone before the young chinese man could identify it.

                I was such an idiot...Quatre thought, looking at the old him.

                "I'll go get Trowa." Wufei told him, bringing him out of his haze.

                Quatre blinked, looking up at him. "What? Now?"

                "I don't see why not." Wufei shrugged. "I'll be right back."

                Quatre's mouth moved like he was going to say something, but didn't. Then he was alone in the study, fingers pressing nervously into the picture. His heart was going a mile a minute and the hairs on his arms were standing on end.

                He was afraid. After so long, he was still afraid.

                Everything was going too fast. He was confused. He'd given Trowa the picture nearly three months before what had happened and Trowa had kept it...

                What was he suposed to think about that?

                Then a memory flashed into his head. He could almost feel the blow across his face and he could hear the words, the horrible words that had haunted him for so long echoing in his head. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. He fought the sting in his eyes, forcing himself to ignore it.

                You're not a weakling anymore, fight it.

                But he still wanted to flee, run, do anything to escape.

                He rubbed a hand across his eyes and forced himself to calm down, swallowing and breathing in deeply.

                It was almost ten minutes before the door reopened and Wufei came in followed by a sightly nervous looking Trowa.

                Quatre didn't look up, glancing at the pocket of his jeans where he'd placed the note and picture.      

                "Do you want me to stay?" Wufei offered.

                Everything inside Quatre screamed 'yes', but he shook his head.

                Wufei nodded. "You two talk. No fighting. I'll be in the next room."

                Then the door shut and the two were alone together.

                Trowa shifted uncomfortably on his feet, folding his arms over his chest. 

                Quatre sighed, looking up at him forcefully. "Can you please sit, you're making me nervous. Besides, I don't like being talked down to."

                Trowa watched him for a second before pulling a chair up and sitting. "So, what now?"

                "We're supposed to talk." Quatre told him. "It was Wufei's idea so don't look at me like that."

                Trowa blinked. "Like what?"

                "Like you're expecting something from me." Quatre replied. "Something like a big forgiveness speech. Well, you can forget it."

                Trowa sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "So, what are we supposed to talk about?"

                "We're supposed to play nice, I guess." Quatre sighed. "Oh yeah." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the paper, tossing it at him. "Wufei found this. I don't know if you want it back, but here it is."

                Trowa caught it mechanically in his hand and held it there, looking at it. "You saw it?"

                Quatre nodded. "Are you gonna tell me about it?" Trowa didn't reply. "Fine then." He stared blankly out the window behind the taller young man.

                Trowa swallowed and closed his eyes. The truth seemed like the easiest way now, even if it hurt them both. Even if it made things worse. "I had to get you away from me."

                "I figured that." Quatre told him. "You know, the whole 'let's break Quatre's little jaw along with his heart and dignity' thing was really going well for you that day."         

                Trowa pushed himself out of his chair and stood, rubbing his forehead. "You know, you're making this really hard."

                "Really?" Quatre stood, moving close to him, face only inches from his. "Good."

                Trowa swallowed, avoiding Quatre's cold eyes. 

                Quatre shook his head, letting in a ragged breath and for a second he didn't know if he was going to laugh or cry. "You think what YOU'RE doing is hard? You have no idea...." His hands went to his head, fingers clenching in his hair. He laughed uncontrollably. He was being ripped apart from the inside. His body was numbing, shaking, weakening. Then he felt hands grip his arms and he was jerked back to reality. "Get OFF me!!" He squirmed, trying to push the taller boy away from him. "Trowa, let me GO!"

                "Quatre, LISTEN to me!" Trowa shouted, almost loud enough to be painful. 

                "Why should I?" Quatre asked, softly. 

                Trowa sighed heavily and held Quatre at arms length, studying him. His heart almost sank at the hateful expression the blond had. 

                He'd made it worse.

                Then he felt something churning, anger. Anger at himself for doing this to the poor innocent, beautiful young man he had once known. Anger at Quatre for not letting him explain, for not understanding what he was trying to say.

                He HAD to make Quatre understand.

                He did the only thing he could think of to do.

                He tilted the latter's head up by the chin and kissed him, his lips pressing against the warm lips of the other.

                Quatre gave a whimper of protest and choked in a ragged breath through his nose. Almost a sob. And for one, brief, beautiful second he was returning the kiss. Trowa felt his head lighten and he smiled a little against the mouth.

                Then suddenly it was pulled violently from his. His eyes opened, meeting surprised blue ones. They both stood facing one another, chests heaving. Then surprise turned to anger and Trowa felt Quatre's fist fly across his face with a force so great that it knocked him to the floor.

                "NEVER AGAIN TROWA!!!" Quatre yelled at him, face filled with unbridaled rage. "I'm NEVER going to let you hurt me like that again."

                Then he ran out of the room, braid flailing behind him.

                Trowa was left on the floor, nursing the side of his face. His lip and nose were bleeding. He turned toward the closing door, yelling out the blonde's name just as he heard the front door slam.


End file.
